Brazilian mass

Landing in a Latin American country and staying with the locals, I was bound to attend a mass.
 

Don't get me  wrong - and I know some among you will be disappointed - I do not intend to issue a judgmental diatribe against monotheism, or poke fun at some people's beliefs. What I want to do here is to describe how dépaysé I felt. Having spent a good part of my childhood sitting in the pews as per my mother's vain vow to save my soul, I had much to compare against. I have since found myself to be a big fan of Apocalyptica. Still, I strive to maintain respect for other people's beliefs, even if it's as far fetched and unprovable as superstring theory.

I started strong as we thought we were running late and I quoted Jesus saying the first will be last and the last will be first. My biblical savvy did not impress. We finally reached the church's gates where a big panel reminded worshipers what they were here for, and therefore asked them to turn off cellphones and other electronic devices. Prayer remains to date the most effective way of reaching Him. Then we entered the church, a scrawny looking building with a Western movie look.

Inside, though, the view was different. We sat all the way down, next to the exit. A cautious move, given all wooden beams and trusses were flexing under the weight of the roof. I had a moment of melancholy remembering my structural mechanics classes.

The pews were almost empty as the mass hadn't actually started, and yet a lady was at the pulpit warming up the crowd for the priest by repeating "Christ is light" over and over again.
A girl came to seat next to me even though there was plenty of room elsewhere, thus confirming the wildly held belief that a church is the best pick-up joint in town.

Soon, however, a crowd swarmed in and the church was full in less time than it took me to say "hallelujah!". The mass started as soon as the priest walked up the alley, not without saluting his flock - rock star style. The whole mass was scripted and he was just reading a piece of paper, which is also the method chosen by most of my former teachers. I thought I knew where this was going.

To my surprise, however, people were not dozing off and instead were looking at him hopeful. Today's sermon was pondering if rich people would also be saved. I didn't get the answer due to my weak Portuguese - still it wasn't simply "yes" or "no".

Then I got awakened from my reverie by the crowd bursting into applause. Apparently, the priest had opened the bible, thus triggering such a demonstration of wild happiness. The mass went on normally from there.

Overall, I could sense in the crowd a real desire to believe and the urgency to turn towards heaven to find solace for the misfortunes of their sometimes miserable lives. And that is no laughing matter. It reminded me how lucky I was to be among them at this moment, to have chosen (relative) poverty and a frugal life and yet being almost guaranteed to step out of it when I so choose. And the bottomless joy to know how jealous most of you are when reading this last sentence.